I always find it amusing that when I write a great blog entry, I find myself perpetually thinking of what to blog about next. That would be the main reason why I waited over a week to post something new. And amusingly enough, I still am not sure what it is I really want to share with you all.
Every step in life seems to come with it's own share of insanities. No matter what day, time of year, month, age, or hour it is, there is always something going on. Some of it is good and some of it is bad, and oftentimes they teeter-totter back and forth on this sliding scale that seems to set its own rules about everything. At the end of the day, with all that this does, I've simply come to that realization that life doesn't give out "optimal" times to do anything. You have to create your own optimal time to do what it is you dream. And a lot of times, that "optimal time" you have to fight for.
Of course, what dream is worth living if it doesn't require a little work and a little sacrifice?
So this past week, even though I've been sick, I did some work and read when I could. And so begins my daily goals for this next month. Read at least a little everyday, and write a little at least everyday. That sounds so easy, but not everyday is equal in its time, despite what we think. And at the end of this month, we'll check back and see how I've done on this road and go from there.
It won't be easy. At the moment, we are working on a move of my in-laws from this home to up-state, and a move around of everything in this home to our desired set-up. Then, there's my daughter's second birthday in less than a month, Easter, and the normal everyday life of being a wife and mother. Come to think of it, that's not even everything that needs to be done. But I won't bore you with my laundry list of to-dos. That doesn't sound enjoyable to me or you.
I will share an anecdotal story of discovery though. Last week, as I began going through my old writings from months and years ago (I am a nostalgic person, I think. I'm often doing this, but it's been a good while since I've looked back as far as I am now), I noticed that in several instances I was using my younger daughter's name, Megan, as a character in a number of stories. And this dates back to even my high school years! I find it quite ironic because it's never been a name that I was fighting to name a character or a child, though I do like the name (and now love because it's attached to my little jelly bean). So somehow, subconsciously, this name has always been something important to me. Either that, or I just have no imagination in character names. I hope it's the former.
Finally, for your enjoyment, I'm going to share some old old writings of mine, just for fun. This is an unnamed poem that I wrote on September 13, 1999, so I was sixteen at the time:
You see it, but it's far off away,
More numbers than you can count,
But never a realization comes,
Until you sit and watch.
Out in the country,
Where the wind blows sweet,
The faint smell of cropped grain, in bare autumn.
The house is pure darkness,
Only breathing escapes silence,
I sit in our hammock
With a view of all worlds above.
I curl in a ball on my hammock,
The chill touches my feet,
Through all my wool socks.
But I do not bother to notice. I wonder,
If it's far off away, so far from my reach,
how can we see it above?
There is no horizon to hide this side,
But still, it can light all that way?
Does it know I am watching,
From far off away,
In the country,
Outside a small house?
Can it feel what I feel,
When I look up at it,
And I see its light flickering,
At 2:34 in the morning?
I did not edit anything, though I'm always tempted to. But this was a poem I read for a talent show shortly after and was told I needed to go into writing professionally. It was one of my favorites at the time, but now I don't know what to think. I still love it, but as an artist, I'm always trying to edit it. And I won't go into the amounts of punctuation that I just want to slice right out of it. But I keep it this way as a testament to that time in my life, as well as for numerous other reasons.
Here is a challenge for you. Go through old work that you have. Hopefully, someone has instilled in you the importance of NOT throwing any writing away (and always writing in ink or keeping hard copies of work). Go through it and reminisce with yourself. You'll be amazed at the memories, feelings, and emotions that they invoke. Yet, you'll be even more amazed at the inspiration and the ideas that will start to grow in your mind. And yes, even the horrible writing you come across does this.
When you go through it, what speaks to you from those pages? What does your past self tell your current self? And try to make it a point to have that conversation every little while or so because there will always be something new to glean.